


The Games He Plays

by passionatelylovers



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 15:14:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12510224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionatelylovers/pseuds/passionatelylovers
Summary: Marvin comes home, his body bleeding and bruised. In his drunken state, he talks to Whizzer.





	The Games He Plays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@lessracquetball](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40lessracquetball).



Marvin stumbled through the door, too intoxicated to properly place his feet where he actually wanted them to go. He tried to walk to his bedroom, or perhaps the couch. At this point the floor looked as good a place as any to fall asleep. His depth perception was incredibly off, because on top of his drunkenness, his left eye was swollen shut. Marvin bumped into a cabinet, jars of herbs a spices were knocked around inside. He put his forefinger to his mouth and shushed the cabinet, as if someone else was making the noise and not him. He didn’t want to wake Whizzer up, who he assumed was sleeping in their bed.

But alas, Whizzer had already been up, worried sick. He didn’t actually fall asleep, his mind was active with fear. Marvin had said he was going to catch up with a peer from work after he clocked out, but suddenly phone calls were left unanswered, no call to say he was going to be late or even where he was. Whizzer’s mind took him to the worst of places, he worried that Marvin left him, that this was another breakup, he worried this was the last breakup, that Marvin had grown tired of him. He tried not to think of Marvin hooking up with someone other than himself, they both had agreed that they were the only ones meant for each other. He was currently sat in the bath with a warm cup of untouched chamomile tea, but his hands were shaking, and tea spilt into the bath. It didn’t faze Whizzer, who didn’t even notice his hands were shaking in the first place, let alone the damage that came with them shaking.

Whizzer heard the sounds of rustling in the kitchen, and quickly threw his clothes on, grabbing his baseball bat in case it wasn’t Marvin, or even if it was Marvin as he might become angry enough. He saw his boyfriend shushing a spices cabinet, clearly drunk out of his mind. Whizzer began crossing his arms, preparing himself to lecture his boyfriend who only called once the entire night very briefly to let Whizzer know he might miss dinner. Whizzer was ready to yell, to scream at Marvin that he was three hours late, that he had finally had the audacity to show up at one in the morning. But when Marvin turned around, Whizzer couldn’t help but let out a gasp or terror. He ran over, dropping the bat and cupping Marvin’s face with both hands. He had a black eye, a bleeding nose, cuts all over his face, and bruises of all different shapes and colours.

“What the hell happened, Marvie?” Whizzer said, moving Marvin’s head around so he could see how deep the cuts were. “Where the hell did you go?”

Marvin looked around, making sure nobody else was around. He bagan horribly whispering. “I went drinking, but shhhhh. Don’t tell Whizzer.”

“I’ll be sure not to,” Whizzer said idly. “how many drinks did you have that did this to you?”

“I don’t want Whizzer to worry,” Marvin said solemnly, completely ignoring the question or even the fact that Whizzer was the one speaking to him. “He doesn’t like it when I fight.”

“Tell me this isn’t what you look like when you win a fight,” Whizzer said. Marvin could get incredibly angry and violent, he has seen it first hand. Never once had Marvin ever looked like this, he had never looked so physically defeated. He sat Marvin at the kitchen table, sitting on his side. “Marvin, what happened?”

“Todd asked me to come watch the game with him at some bar,” Marvin said, his words slurring together. Whizzer furrowed his brow, Marvin hated sports, the only sport he ever plays is racquetball but even then, he always complains about doing physical activity. “And so I did. I thought if I knew what was happening with sports Whizzer would have something to talk about with me. God, I love Whizzer.”

Whizzer smiled as he grabbed Marvin’s hand, who was too daft to know that baseball season had ended and it was now in fact Foot-Ball season, a sport Whizzer didn’t especially care for. But, it was the thought that caused Whizzer to grin. It was also the fact that Marvin didn’t know who he was talking to, yet he gushed about Whizzer anyways. Whizzer wondered how often Marvin talks about him when he’s not around.

“I said sports were dumb, which let me tell you was the wrong thing to say at a sports bar,” Marvin began wiping his nose, and his eyebrows were dangerously close to getting lost in his hair when he saw the blood. Whizzer stood up to wet a cloth with warm water. He came back and began wiping away the blood that covered Marvin’s face.

“You’re very bold Marvie,” Whizzer said. He left for a moment to get Marvin a new shirt, as the one he was wearing had potent fluids that Whizzer did not want to see or smell any longer. When he came back he saw Marvin crying silently, not moving. Whizzer softly frowned as he wiped tears away too. He took off Marvin’s shirt and put it aside. Whizzer sat in Marvin’s lap carefully, not knowing if he had been injured on his legs. He saw the bruises that painted Marvin’s torso, and closed his eyes. He grabbed the side of Marvin’s face and kissed his cheek, lingering his head. Marvin was still crying, and Whizzer couldn’t tell if it was from pain or the fear of disappointing him.

“Everything will be alright,” Whizzer said in a whisper. Marvin nodded his head, his eyes were closed. Whizzer sighed, giving a small smile. His boyfriend could be incredibly dumb sometimes but his heart was in the right place. “I love you Marvin.”

“I love you, Whizzer,” Marvin said, and Whizzer let out a quiet chuckle as he finally figured out that Whizzer was the one he was talking to. Marvin placed his hand on top of Whizzer’s, grabbing at his fingers and holding them tightly.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHH I didn’t write much but I really felt compelled to give @lessracquetball’s art a story and it might be trash but looking at the artwork can make it better.


End file.
